Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1887-02-05

"IOok Jack" George suddenly exclaimed SIT is
nearly midnight; If you had lonely room and a
mirror, would try Gfovanni's theory tonight"
had q mirror and lonely room. You re-
member my studio was In an ancient hotel In the
FaubOurg st. Germain, and full of relics OF the
trade and in the lofty rooms still rich with their
faded frescOes. My studio opened into an immense
salon In which stored all my supernuous artistic
properties. They were not many, so the great
space was bare and desolate. The only piece Of
furniture was an antique mirror, which l had
and brought home in triumph as veritable work
OF art. As Giovanni proceeded In his story
strange fancy had possession Of me- for this mirror
columns. Even the amoretti were not missing,
although their dimpled hands were empty Of
OF one, was broken OF above the elbow.
''Have you mirror, Jack?"
eyes" answered, "there is one in the LUMBER
night; it is cold and aboninoble In there, and it
viii strike midnight Immediately"
$50 it will; there is not a moment to lose" he
Sprang up and Snatched candle out OF an OH
fashioned candelabrim on the mantepiece. AS he
lighted it was painfully struck with his restless,
like most Of US he was in his shirt-seeves tall
sinewy, elegant figure, but 1 noticed that MS
hands trembled; he had been drinking deeply,
his arm; strange fear choked my voice and OPP,
pressed me. He shook me of hastily and
laughed out:
"Why, Jack, are we fools? Do you believe in
such rubbish7 Bah!" He walked quickly to the
door OF the saloon and opened 1t; he looked PACK
we sat and stood in dead GREATNESS silence around
the supper table, with its gay confusion, its light
and flowers. Perhaps the feeling Of dread which
less fellows was sort OF contagion from Giovanni
and me, for the Italian sat imMOvable, with burn
woman, would have cried out or tainted. We lis
tened TO his firm footsteps, as they echoed across
dhss p
began to strike. Then there rang through our ears
terrible cry, then heavy fall, then dead silence.
l was at the door In moment. and the rest FOL,
lowed knew, before / could see. that should
find him there before the mirror. The only light
was from the studio door and from the moonlight
struggling through the cObwebbed window. He
lay on his face, with his arms outstretched. l
turned him over and lifted up his handsome head.
s e al Were 81 his wae 0p
we looked 1t settled into the calm repose OF death
He was dead, DR.. Laurent kneeled down beside
him and barred his arm. Not drop OF blood fol-
lowed the lancet, but, as I still held him, my
heart gave great leap at the sight OF broad
golden band below the shoulder. l hastily pulled
down the sleeve. had no need to dec1pher the
fantastic, blood-red letters on it. flood of light
illumined the past months. No wonder, no won
secret in his life, an anguish against which he
might well wound himself TO death.
Dr. Laurent said IL was disease Of the heart; but
Beatrice's mirror and he crossed himself furtive-
ly. After all the necessary fOrmatieS were ended,
we followed him to his lonely grave There were
no papers, no slightest indication which could give
a clue to who or what he was. so we left him
there, greater mystery than ever.
There was one person who stood with us beside
the grave, woman tall and withered with great
bright eyes, set in brown Italian face; she said
nothing she never took her eyes OIL the coffin, but
as they lowered 1t, she knelJ down and stretched
out her w1thered hands and muttered something
rapidly. Giovanni who stood by me, said, Amen
He thought it was a blessing, but who saw in her
the Old woman at the opera ball. knew too well that
1t was curse.
And you have here that very mirror, which once
belonged to Beatrice, and to the poor little white
domino whom CPOrfra loved Eillpd